


Dress Rehearsal

by AughtPunk



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: And they are both Dorks, Flirting, Hanzo is the Owner, Jesse is Set Builder, M/M, Playing Make Believe, Theater AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 05:32:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AughtPunk/pseuds/AughtPunk
Summary: Written for the fanzine To Ashes, now on Ao3!A vigilante cowboy with a king's bounty on his head runs afoul of a deadly assassin! Or, you know, it could be about Set Designer Jesse McCree badly flirting with Theater Owner Hanzo Shimada in the costume closet. Maybe both?





	Dress Rehearsal

Hanzo twisted the gold silk ribbon around his hand. The fabric was soft yet durable and decorated with a scale-pattern that had caught his eye the second he came into the room. How such a beautiful accessory had ended up stored with the rest of the costumes was a total mystery. He wondered if anyone even knew it was there, Propmaster Mei included. Deep down Hanzo knew this was all a pretense to convince himself it was okay to take the ribbon. He owned the theater so technically the ribbon already belonged to him, right? So-

“Howdy there darlin’. What’s a fine filly like you doin’ in a ghost town like this?”

Hanzo knew for a fact that those rich, deep tones could only belong to Jesse McCree, the Phoenix Theater’s resident set builder and all-around handyman. So Hanzo was just a little surprised when he turned and saw a cowboy instead. This cowboy did happen to wear the same serape and hat that were used in last year’s production of Annie Get Your Gun, which was a tad suspicious. Hanzo also wasn’t sure if cowboys normally wore paint-stained blue jeans and flannel under their serapes.

The cowboy tipped his hat to Hanzo. “Name’s Jesse McCree. Most wanted man this side of the Missisip’. Sixty million dollar bounty, dead or alive. You’ve probably seen my wanted poster around town and, yes, I do autographs.” Jesse tipped his hat back up. “Don’t mean any harm of course. My bullets are only for those who escaped their rightful justice.”

“Howdy,” Hanzo returned, painfully aware of how stiff and formal the word came out. “What brings you to my,” he paused to glance around the densely-packed room, “general store?” 

“Been sent out to a deliver a message to a Mister Shimada on behalf of Mayor Winston.”

The stage director. Hanzo had a feeling what the message was. “And what does the Mayor wish to tell me?”

“Seems like that no-good brother of yours hightailed it out of rehearsal early without informin’ the rest of the cast. Probably off to spend some quality time with that--” The smile on Jesse’s face flickered for a second as his voice dropped. “Uh, what would Zenyatta be in this? Preacher?”

Hanzo nodded. “I can see preacher.”

Jesse’s eyes brightened as he continued, “With Father Zenyatta! Ain’t right, leavin’ his companions high and dry like that. So I’m thinkin’ maybe I could check the old watering hole to see if they’re still warming the barstools there. With your permission, Mr. Shimada.”

“I see.” Hanzo moved around Jesse, walking close enough to smell a faint hint of wood shavings on the man. “Feel free go on a wild goose chase after my brother, cowboy. But I am afraid you have already made a fatal error.” 

“Oh?” Jesse placed a hand on his hip. “And what would that be, sweetheart?”

“I am no mere general store owner.” Hanzo rolled with a grace not commonly found in theater owners but, well, it wasn’t like he had always been one. He grabbed a prop bow, turned, and landed on his knee with the fake weapon pointed straight at the cowboy. He pulled his arm back as if an arrow was nocked and ready to fire. “I am an assassin, sent here for the bounty on your head. And I do not intend to leave without it.” 

The warm, deep chuckle Jesse let out was absolutely worth the pain in Hanzo’s legs from doing that roll. Jesse held up his hands in surrender and grinned. “Well well! You got me fair and square, partner. But I don’t feel like dyin’ just yet. Maybe you and me can work this out?”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes and smiled. “I suppose I could have something else instead of your head. Dinner, perhaps?”

Jesse lowered his arms, the smile dropping off his face in shock. “You uh, wait, hang on, like on a date?”

With those words reality came crashing back. Hanzo was hyper aware that he was kneeling on the dirty costume closet floor holding a modified toy bow at an employee who was dressed in a gaudy cowboy hat and wearing a blanket that probably hadn’t been washed since they bought it from the thrift store. If the wide-eyed look on Jesse’s face was anything to go by, he was having the exact same realization. Hanzo felt his face heat up and took a deep breath in hopes of banishing his blush. “If you wish it to be.”

Jesse grinned. No, he smiled, a wide, honest smile that lit up the dim room. “Sounds like a trap. Could be trying to lure me to my doom.”

“You will simply have to risk it, cowboy,” Hanzo said as he tried to stand up with the help of the bow. ‘Tried’ being the keyword, as the moment he put his weight against the toy Hanzo could feel the plastic begin to bend.

“Might not mind death so much if it means getting to spend my last moments with you.” Jesse walked over with a swagger that he must have practiced before and offered his hand. “How about I go rustle up that brother of yours, then you and me can figure out that date?”

Hanzo took Jesse’s hand and stood up. He had only a brief thought about the dirt on his pants before his focus was overtaken by the feel of Jesse’s fingers wrapped around his own. The sensation of calloused skin marked with a lifetime’s worth of scars was almost too much. Much to Hanzo’s joy, the scent of freshly-sawed wood was wrapped around Jesse along with a hint of still-drying paint. All scents he now equated with being strong, capable, and everything else that made up Jesse McCree. “Meet me at the Sheriff’s after rehearsal?” 

“Of course. Wait, what’s the Sheriff’s--”

“My office.”

“I’ll be there with spurs on, darlin’. But could you do me one last favor? Just in case this is the end of the outlaw Jesse McCree?” Jesse lifted Hanzo’s hand to his lips, his eyes shining despite the dim light. “Could you wear that gold ribbon in your hair? It suits you.” 

With a light kiss against the back of Hanzo’s hand, Jesse sauntered out of the costume closet leaving the stunned assassin behind. Hanzo made it all the way back to his office before realizing the ribbon was still wrapped around his other hand. And, more importantly, Jesse had run off with the cowboy costume. Propmaster Mei was going to kill them both.

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE!! You can now read the sequel to this story [RIGHT HERE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13245306/chapters/30315321)  
> Written for the fanzine To Ashes! Will link to the art done for this piece once it's posted!
> 
> [Magicalzombieart with Jesse lookin' fine](http://magicalzombieart.tumblr.com/post/169133425036/and-thusly-begins-the-posting-for-my-pieces-done)  
> [Wyntera with the costume closet and Hanzo debating theft](https://wyntera.tumblr.com/post/169212906614/i-can-finally-post-the-art-pieces-i-did-for)  
> 


End file.
